Mirrors
by Ellesemera
Summary: Hermione and Draco. Aren't they the perfect pair? He loves her. Probably. She hated him. Definitely. But then, one day, in the dark dungeons of Malfoy manor, something changed. They were both taken captive. Whatever transpired in those dark halls had left an indelible mark on her psyche. He had committed a crime, knowingly, and he was paying the price.


**Chapter 1**

* * *

Hermione peeked into the full length mirror with some apprehension. She was dressed in a plain black dress with sequins at the hem. Her unruly hair was tied down casually behind her and she wore minimal make up. She observed the plastic contours of her face in the reflection and saw nothing but the world.

For some reason though, she couldn't take her eyes off the small silver pendant that hung around her slender neck. Everything turned crimson at the thought of silver. Every memory was brought back.

And yet, she wore something in that very metal to remind herself lest she forget.

She tied the small white ribbon around her wrist.

It was the fifth anniversary of the end of war.

She peered into her almond shaped eyes.

She was ready to see more of them though she knew well enough that the world held no surprises.

It was an _infected_ world.

* * *

"Harry," she said as she pecked him on the cheek and gave him a short hug. She held out a hand for Ginny who shook it with cold civility. Hermione glanced at her frosty look with indifference and nodded to the pair before moving on to an area of the lawn that was less crowded. The red liquid cradled in the crystal glass shone nonchalantly in the golden light that inundated the enclosure. Quite a few people had turned up for the event, after all.

It was an annual Ministry event.

She felt the strange tang of lipstick on her tongue as she took a sip.

"I didn't think you'd turn up," a snide voice commented from somewhere to her right.

Imperceptibly, her shoulders stilled for the slightest fraction before the owner of that drawl moved from the periphery of her vision to the forefront.

Malfoy.

Bad faith.

Her face was blank and she let not even a nerve twitch.

"A dance?"

He held out his hand casually, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. She tilted her head slightly and surveyed him with dispassion. In another second, her glass rested on the large buffet table behind her and she placed her smaller hand in his.

They had decorated the garden tastefully, she had to agree. There was a small, golden fountain in the middle of it. It emitted golden sparks along with bluish water jets. The trees and bushes were overhung with fairy lights.

"You still haven't forgiven me…" he whispered into her ear.

To others, it must have appeared as though he whispered sweet words of endearment to her. Hermione looked at his pale face in the dim light. He had grown up. Faintly visible stubble on his face gave it an appearance of something infected growing on his skin.

It looked like his skin had dried and was peeling off.

"One of these days, I know you will…"

She closed her eyes as he spun her on her feet and her back collided against his firm chest.

The world looked varying shades of grey from where she stood.

She caught sight of something black.

And red.

Malfoy still whispered something in her ears and she didn't really pay attention to what he said.

He grabbed at her hip and softly caressed the fabric of her dress that clung to her body.

She said nothing.

The touch meant nothing.

Finally, the song ended. She let go of his hand turned towards the food table, leaving him standing as he stared after her. They had served lobsters that night. One of the many delicacies served during these soirees.

"It's been a long time since I saw you last, Hermione," Parvati said as she stood beside Hermione in line, waiting to pile her plate with bits of everything. Hermione looked at her from behind her hooded eyebrows.

"I suppose," she responded and moved over to sit at the nearest empty table. From far off, she could see Harry and Ginny socialising. She sniffed at the dewy air and frowned. Most of her former teachers were there, including Professor Snape. She had to greet him before leaving. She wasn't much concerned about the rest.

"That wasn't very nice of you, sweetheart," Malfoy drawled as he dragged a chair back and deposited his slim self in it. "You left me alone."

'_You left me all alone…'_

She picked the lobster off her plate and, using her bare hands, cracked it into two halves.

The loud crunch almost made Malfoy flinch.

"It's been a year since I saw you last," he said as he swirled the thin liquid in his goblet. Hermione glanced at him disinterestedly. "I… speak to me, please."

Hermione laid down her fork and stifled a small yawn.

"What were your words to me when we were in that _hovel_, Malfoy?"

Malfoy stiffened visibly and the corners of his mouth straightened.

"It was a long time ago, Granger. Why do you still…"

She smirked at him.

Her smile was composed of shards of thin ice.

"There are no _saviours,_ Granger. If and when it is a choice between my life and yours, I would always choose mine," she echoed his words from long back. The manner in which she said them, however, was measured and even. "There is no one waiting to mourn your dead skin. There is no one waiting to crash down the doors of this dreary dungeon and whisk you off into safety on his white horse. There will never be one for love is futile and transient."

She saw him grab the table cloth. His distress was _almost_ visible in his eyes.

"There is nothing more superficial and foolish than optimism," she finished, her eyes raking over the crowd to seek her former Potions teacher.

She stood up elegantly and began to walk to the other side but paused when she neared his chair. She laid a hand on Malfoy's shoulder with the same chilly indifference.

He shuddered.

"One of these days, Malfoy, I'm going to be the position you were five years ago." She dug her fingernails into his crisp shirt. "_Fear that day_. For love _is_ futile and there is no one waiting back at home to save _your_ pretty hide."

She walked off with the same calm demeanour, leaving a dark faced Malfoy behind. She had just spotted the man she was keen to speak to.

* * *

"Professor," she greeted the dark haired man who stood aloof on one side. He held the same red coloured liquid in his hands and glanced at her in interest as she walked over and stood beside him. A slight nod of acknowledgement was all she got.

Unfazed, she took another sip from her glass and eyed him carefully.

"Did you get my note?" Her opening was brisk and businesslike. She most certainly did not want to dawdle over pleasantries both of them knew did not exist.

He nodded once more, looking away from her. He seemed to be thinking.

_Thinking._

Hermione had done quite a lot of that.

She waited for his response.

"The idea is certainly intriguing but the premise of pain may not sit well with ethical practices of medicine in today's world, Miss Granger." He looked at her oddly.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at him and her eyes travelled over the couple nearest to them that danced as if there was no tomorrow. There was passion there… and love.

She could puke.

"The question, Professor, is whether _you_ are willing to cooperate in my, ah, little _project_…" she remarked lightly.

Her eyes met Ginny's. She was seated at the far end at a table reserved especially for them. _Her and harry._

Her eyes held the cold aversion she was so keen to show off every time Hermione was around.

_You are the reason he died_, they seemed to say.

Hermione could almost snort at her glares.

She was wasting her hatred.

"The coin has two sides, Miss Granger," Severus commented dryly. "You seem to have become oblivious to the same."

"A _coin_, yes." Hermione eased some tension in her neck by rotating it a bit in its shaft. "But a mirror, no. The mirror has only one side. The reflective one. I am a mirror, Professor. I reflect what is around me…"

She took another small sip and her eyes fell on Lavender.

She looked lovely that night.

"Even so-" Severus began but Hermione cut him off with an oblique glance.

Silence fell between them.

It was broken by music.

_Strange how harmony could tear away peace._

"I will assist you, Miss Granger."

The corners of her mouth turned upwards a little. He wouldn't have given up the chance, she knew. It was a good thing. She needed his expertise in potion making.

Her work there was done.

She balanced her wineglass on the edge of the table and held it in place with her carefully controlled wandless magic. The glass remained frozen in a perfect tilt, ready to fall off as soon as she let go.

"I will contact you," she said and moved over to the side where the door lay.

The glass wobbled as soon as her flowing black dress passed the table.

It fell down with a resounding crash almost at the same time as Hermione vanished into darkness.

* * *

She took down the wards, extensively keyed to her own wand, and stepped over the threshold of her house.

Seeing him had been… _strange._

Not moving, just strange.

She laid her wand on the table and shook the band out of her hair.

_'Whom would you choose, Granger, if the only other alternative was to be tortured to the depths of hell? You don't know. I have seen them and never will I choose it willingly if an alternative, any alternative lies with me.'_

There was that voice again.

She paid no attention to the echoes that reverberated across the vast expanse of her mind as she shrugged off her dress and entered the shower.

_'They will maim me. They will gouge out my eyes and mutilate my body parts while I am alive. Talk of bravery all you can, Granger, but even you would give in. You haven't seen them. You haven't heard those shrieks of terror and agony as their dirty blood fled their own skin.'_

She turned on the tap and closed her eyes.

_'I thought… we… you said…'_

The warm water tingled with scent and eased her skin.

_'There is no humanity, Granger. Only illusions. After everything has been stripped from you, your honour, your pride… your virtue, they will take away your sanity. They will take away your soul. And don't tell me you are strong enough to counter their attacks. No one can.'_

She ran her nimble fingers through her drenched hair as foaming bubbles crowded around her head.

_'There is only power and those too weak to seek it. Of course, you may not seek it but it will find a way to put you down if it fears you as a rival.'_

She dried her hair on the soft towel before she put on her nightgown and climbed into her bed.

_'One of these days, Malfoy, you'll see. My infection will catch on you. The disease you so easily shook off will come back.'_

_'I think I'd watch you fight it off.'_

_'I think you'd make a good case study.'_

_'Don't delude yourself into thinking that I shall have mercy on you for old times' sake. I think we are way past those infantile notions of faith in humanity, after all.'_

An eerie smile crossed her lips as she gazed at the ceiling directly above her. The painted blue was reflected in her glassy eyes.

_'One of these days…'_


End file.
